


At The Shrine of Your Lies

by Achrya



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Betrayal, Emotional Manipulation, Hux is running the show, M/M, Manipulation, Sexual Content, discussed mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another reality he was probably high ranking, respected, feared, his dreams of being emperor more than just delusions. But in this reality Brendol is an omega and the First Order only has one place for omegas: On their knees.<br/>But there are many ways to power for those patient enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At The Shrine of Your Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I don’t know what to say. This is me, adding a new fandom to my dumpster I guess and being terrible ABO trash while doing so. Omega!Hux is a manipulative little fucker and is absolutely running the show.  
> Warnings: Language, sex, betrayal, plots, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, sexism, ownership of people, AU, references to child marriage (bonding)...A lot of stuff is crammed in here. I'm probably missing stuff. Unbeta'd and probably full of errors.

_Kylo is sure, fingers threading through soft red hair and nails scratching over Brendol’s scalp, that under different circumstances the man on his knees before him would have taken the First Order by storm. He would stand apart from,_ above _, all the rest, respected and feared for his cruelty and cunning. Perhaps he’d be standing as commander of his own ship with an impressive rank before his name._

_If he hadn’t been born an omega and if the First Order didn’t deem omegas unreliable and weak, unfit to even be taken to become Storm Troopers, Brendol’s life would be very different._

_Instead he was with Kylo, mouth stretched open wide and saliva escaping the corners, attaining power in his own way._

Brendol had made himself into a poison.

He infected, got into the blood and rotted the mind, and got stronger every time.

It had started with their first meeting.

The general was waiting for him when he stepped off of his personal shuttle onto the _Finalizer_ for the first time. He stepped forward, a sheen of nervous sweat on his face and tiny eyes darting around nervously. Kylo regarded him for a moment, dismissed him mentally, looked at the Trooper in gleaming armor with a bit more interest, ignored the standard troopers behind her, and then turned his attention to the redhead standing just behind and to the side of the general.

The general started to talk, welcoming Kylo to the ship and assuring him that quarters had been set aside and brought up to his standards and a wealth of other nonsensical things that he barely acknowledged. He doubted the man could tell, the mask made it impossible to see Kylo’s eyes or where his attention really was.

It was a strange thing for an omega to be on a ship, even if their master was the commander. What good was a pretty pet, raised to be a companion and breeder, in a place like this and yet there he stood anyway.

The omega was tall and thin but not without muscle. Straight red hair, long enough to brush his ears, not a strand out of place, pink lips slick with something that left them shining under the bright lights in the hanger, light blue-green eyes trained on the floor, and pale freckled skin. Only his arms and feet were bare and there was none of the filmy gauze that omegas usually were dressed in, none of the gaudy baubles the property of a high ranking officer would be expected to wear in sight.

There was a simple black collar around his neck, adorned only with the tag that hung from the metal ring; Kylo didn’t need to read it to know that it would be etched the general’s name and rank.

There was something there, something that spoke to a part of Kylo he’d thought he’d mastered and killed with all the other parts of who he’d been before. He’d frowned behind his mask

Kylo hadn’t known then but he’d already been infected.

He’d found himself watching the omega whenever they were in the same room, following him with his eyes and how could he not?

In a way he appeared to be the typical omega, attractive but vacant, raised to be a companion and breeder but nothing else. He sat curled up at his master’s feet at all times, a pretty thing to be shown off, stroked, and fed, but Kylo had been able to see right away that there was more to it than that. Could tell that he was listening carefully, missed nothing and that the mind behind those clear green eyes was always, always, working.

The mask kept people from seeing his distraction.

His fascination.

His new shame.

He’d thought the desires of his body long buried. He was an alpha but there were no ruts anymore, no urge to scent and mark and fuck and breed; he had no use for them and his focus was needed elsewhere. His training. Snoke’s orders. The Resistance.

He was above the petty things that could lead others to ruin. He had the force and needed nothing else.

And yet.

He was tainted by a sickening lust that couldn’t be pushed away. It sunk deep into him, made him feel it all the way to the marrow of his bones.

It moved him to learn what he could about the omega; he wasn’t military or personal so no such file existed on him but there were medical files. Age, mating history, breeding history; he took the scant information and slowly turned it into more.

Born from an family loyal to the Empire then sent to an Omega House, as was customary for omegas of superior breeding, to be groomed into an acceptable mate for someone.

Berndol’s first had been when he was thirteen. He’d been bonded to a man a man nearly four times his age and, in the years they’d spent together before that man had succumbed to a strange illness, that man had supposedly played a role in changing the Storm Trooper training.

Kylo noted with some interest that the changes made seemed in line with Brendol’s father’s, Commandant Brendol Hux, once rejected ideas.

The second master hadn’t done anything of note, seemingly an unmotivated man who’d been content with his rank and standing in the First Order, and had been murdered in a case of mistaken identity by Resistance assassins within a year of the bonding.

Or so the story went.  

The current alpha, the nephew of the first man and brother to the second, was an ambitious idiot but, somehow, had gained the rank of general and been given command of the _Finalizer_ on the back of impressive technological advances.

Supposedly the general was working on something impressive, something he claimed would make the Deathstar look pathetic, and had promised the Supreme Leader it would change everything. Kylo was on the _Finalizer_ to observe and ‘encourage’ the general to work faster.

He suspected Snoke was aware that it was Brendol, not the general, who was doing the work. Snoke wasn’t easily fooled but it did beg the question of why Kylo’s master bothered with an incompetent general at all, let alone let him sit in such a position of power and appear to be one of those closest to the Supreme Leader

Unless it was more about Brendol and what he offered than about his alpha.

If that was the case killing the general and installing Brendol in his place would have been far more direct and less convoluted. If he was not fit for his station then why let him remain in it?

Politics were something Kylo loathed. He prefered rank attained by power and strength and if an omega had that power then so be it.

Such things weren’t his concern but then neither was the green eyed omega who so occupied his thoughts.

He was impressed, in a way, with what Brendol had managed to accomplish. Leading his mates along, helping them grasp power and then disposing of them when they were no longer of use to him. He’d been limited because of how he’d been born but he’d managed to pull strings and move things in his favor with no one being the wiser.

He’d refused to be limited by what he’d been born to.

Kylo wanted to know more.

Slowly but surely the omega had worked under his skin before uttering a single word to him.

Sometimes he’d look up from his workouts and find green eyes watching him from the doorway. Sometimes in his meetings with the general he’d catch the omega staring, lips quirked up at the corners. Other times the omega would brush by him in the corridors, letting Kylo feel his warmth and the press of his body for a moment. One a few occasions he’d looked up to find Brendol tsking softly at some damage at Kylo had wrought, the only person on ship not too afraid to step into a room when he lightsaber was out.

He’d dared to, voice pitched low and eyes shadowed, call him an angry child who needed to control his temper and Kylo had been too surprised to lash out.

Those were the first words the omega had spoken in his presence.

There would be others after that. Moments when the omega was away from the one who had claim over him and seemed to seek Kylo out in strange places where no one else would see or overhear. They spoke about the First Order, about the resistance, about the general and his yet to materialize plans for a weapon greater than the Deathstar (and oh how Brendol’s eyes had gone bright with cruel mirth during that conversation). They argued often, agreed on little, and Kylo should have struck him down a hundred times for daring to do so but he didn’t.

Partially because it would have been the end of ‘The Great Weapon’ and Snoke would have punished him severely for it and partially because Brendol’s nature pulled at him, stroked at the part of himself he’d thought controlled, and he’d found himself wanting.

He knew he was being worn down, that the poison that was Brendol was in his system and eating away at him, killing from the inside out, and he did nothing to stop it. It was a painful sort of sweet feeling and he craved it. Found himself being the one to seek the omega, to chase him, and the alpha part of himself grew louder and wanted more with each passing day.

It came to a head the day he came back from a meeting with Snoke, who’d watched him with a strange knowing glint in his eyes, to find the omega waiting outside of his quarters expectantly.

This was another man’s omega, someone else’s property, and Kylo had greedily, clumsily, taken him on the floor as soon as the door had closed after them, desperate for it and unable to control himself. After, when Brendol had insisted he needed to return to his actual alpha, he’d held him against the wall and fingered his cum out of the whimpering omega and left impressions of his teeth in pale skin, furious at the idea of letting him return to where he was supposed to be.

He’d known then that Brendol had wormed his way in too deep, that he’d been infected with something he wouldn’t be able to easily rid himself of.

Wasn’t sure he wanted to be rid of it. It was foolish and weak; he should have killed Brendol to cut the poison out of himself, damn the consequences, but instead he let it fester more. Let it grow.

Brendol promised things in the stillness of Kylo’s quarters, lips brushing over his skin and eyes gleaming, dangled them like drops of water before a man trapped on a desert planet, and he made Kylo want to drink them straight from his lips.

He brought their mouths together, lips and tongue and teeth, and said that together they would rule. Kylo’s power and Brendol’s ability, the intelligence and ambition and drive that he kept out of sight, buried under his harmless omega exterior, would make them unstoppable.

Kylo found it was impossible to not listen to the words panted out between sloppy kisses.

He sat in his lap, skin to skin and rocking up in down, and said he’d take Kylo’s seed and give him heirs, powerful children to continue the legacy started by his grandfather. He insisted no one else, none of the alphas who’d come before and not even the man who had claim to Brendol, had been good enough to get him with child but Kylo was different, stronger.  

Kylo, who’d been someone else before, who’d had a family once, couldn’t banish the image from his head with any amount of meditation or aimless destruction on the ship.

He dropped razor sharp words when he was underneath him, swearing that Kylo would be greater than his grandfather had been and his name would never be forgotten, and they cut into his flesh and left scars that only Kylo could see in their wake.

He hadn’t wanted to want those things, to crave them, but the tempting whispers crooned into his ear when Brendol was beside him had gotten their hooks in the very first time and never let go. Long legs tight around his waist and wet dripping heat clenching and dragging him ever deeper had weakened him, made him susceptible to Brendol’s traitorous murmur.

_When the omega, lips swollen and wet and voice hoarse, stares up from between his legs and tells him that soon, very soon, they must be rid of the general, the commander of the Finalizer and Brendol’s alpha, he can only nod._

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Why call Hux Brendol and not Hux: He's bonded and so no longer has his family surname.  
> 2\. I didn't give Hux's alpha/'The General' a name on purpose but I guess you can call him 'that guy who is going to wake up one night to Kylo Ren standing over him, lightsaber in hand'. ...nah, that's pretty long.  
> 3\. I have no idea what inspired this. /shrug  
> 4\. I have a vague idea for a follow up maybe. Quiet puppet master Hux intrigues me.


End file.
